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Serenity: Good luck at the interview. As much as I’ll be sad and miserable if you leave me here all alone, I really just want you to be happy more than anything. You deserve it all, babe. Knock them dead. ;)
I smile as I read the message, the captain welcoming us to New York as our plane reaches the gate. I grab my bags and exit the plane, making my way out to my driver to take me to my hotel.
I have a few hours before the interview, enough time to settle in, go over my notes, and freshen up before heading over to the offices of Pemberly & Associates PR. This firm is absolutely the best in New York, the founder Kiera a good friend of Lisa’s.
“Good morning, ma’am,” the doorman of the hotel greets me as I make my way inside and check in. Lisa made the arrangements for me, insisting I stay at this boutique hotel that’s near the offices and also offers great accommodations. I told her that I can pay for the flight and hotel, but she insisted, also making sure that I had a driver so I didn’t have to rely on public transportation.
I flop back on the large king-sized bed, letting out a sigh I feel like I’ve been holding in since I woke up this morning. My mind starts to wander, imagining starting over in a brand-new city where I know nobody. A city that already feels overwhelming at best. A tear threatens to fall and I sit up frantically. Something I’ve realized over the last several weeks is that if I keep my mind preoccupied and don’t let it start sliding down rabbit holes of ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybes’ that I can manage to not have a panic attack.
I spend the next few hours prepping for my interview, ordering room service, and freshening up before I head downstairs to my waiting car.
“It was an absolute pleasure, Presley, truly. I can see why Lisa hired you and why she’s so sad to see you go.” Kiera looks over at the two other women I interviewed with. “I think I can speak for all three of us when I say that we can see you fitting in here perfectly and we would be honored to have you represent Pemberly.”
I smile, shaking each of their hands again. “Thank you so much for the opportunity to interview here and for your time and consideration. I also appreciate the recommendation from Lisa. I know I wouldn’t be standing here without her so that doesn’t go unrecognized.”
“Maybe not this early in your career, but you would have ended up here or working for her, even without her input, trust us.”
I thank them all again and make my way toward the elevator to exit the building, my shoulders finally dropping from up by my ears where I feel like they’ve settled over the last two hours.
When I reach the lobby, my phone rings; it’s Lisa.
“Hey, Lisa, I just left the interview.”
“I know. I got a text just now from Kiera. She was beyond impressed with you, like I knew she would be—she wants to extend an offer, Presley.”
“Oh my God,” I gasp, stopping in the middle of the lobby. It all feels like it’s too real now.
“Which is why I wanted to call you and tell you first. I know about Cyrus Presley.”
My body goes flush. “You do?” I ask nervously.
“I do and I want to say that I’m not mad at you. I spoke with him. He stopped by my office because he couldn’t reach you and he broke down and told me everything.”
Everything?
“I told him that you were interviewing in New York today. I also know that this is none of my business, but I have to ask before you uproot your life and start over somewhere, are you sure this is the right choice or are you running?”
I swallow down a lump in my throat. “I, uh, I’m not… I don’t know,” I finally say, breaking down. “I truly don’t know, Lisa.”
I can hear the sympathy in her voice. “Do me a favor; don’t make any rash decisions. This offer from Pemberly will be good for a while; they don’t expect you to start tomorrow, and she knows you’re a fresh grad who needs some time, so take it. Figure out your life for you, okay?”
“Okay,” I say softly, nodding as if she can see me. She hangs up the phone, and I step out into the afternoon sun. A weight feels like it’s been lifted from my shoulders, but now I feel even more lost than before.
“Did you get the job?”
I freeze, turning slowly to see Cyrus casually leaning against the railing.
“What are you doing here?”
He pushes off the railing, taking a few steps until he’s standing next to me, looking down.
“I came to take you home.”
I turn and walk down the stairs to the sidewalk where my car is waiting, but he follows me, reaching out to grab my arm.
“You told me to go live my life, to find someone else, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m out living my life.”
“No, you’re not,” he says matter-of-factly. “We both know you’re running.”
